Shiro Ship Week
by AprilOfTheStars
Summary: Seven days, seven stories, seven ships. I’m doing this for Shiro Ship Week 2018, so if you want angst, fluff, or death this is the place to find it! Lots of slash, so if you don’t like that, dont read. T is the highest the ratings will be but each story will be different, so warnings will be inside.
1. Day 1: Shiro x Hunk

**Hi guys! So, as the title suggests, I am writing seven one-shots for Shiro Ship Week. The prompts are from janestrider on tumblr (I believe, so please correct me if I'm wrong) and although I don't have a personal tumblr and they'll probably never see this, I thought it'd be fun to do! Each day will be a new prompt and a new Shiro Ship, and since this is closing off Pride Month, they will all be slash ships. You have been warned. Different days will have different ratings and warnings, and I will inform you of those in the A/N beforehand. On to day one!**

 **Day one's prompt was flowers, and for this I am doing Shiro x Hunk. This is rated K, and is probably the fluffiest thing I have ever and will ever write. There is no angst, injury, death, or even much romance. This is either set after the Paladins return to Earth, or it's slightly AU. Either way, it takes place on Earth. It's pretty short, but tomorrow is super long so it evens out. Enjoy!**

Shiro yawned, furrowing his brows together in annoyance. His phone was buzzing. Why was it buzzing? He groaned, throwing his hand out and swinging for the noisy device on his nightstand. When he finally grabbed it, the lock screen lit up, momentarily blinding him. He squinted and accepted the early call.

"Hello?" He said groggily.

 **Hey, Shiro, you up?** The soft voice of his boyfriend floated through the phone.

"Now I am," the man huffed, despite the soft smile that came to his lips when he heard his partner's voice.

 **Oh come on, Shiro, it's eight-o-clock. A perfectly reasonable time to get up,** replied Hunk, who had probably been awake for at least an hour and a half. **Anyways, get dressed. I'm picking you up in twenty minutes. I have a surprise for you!**

Shiro yawned again, stretching. Getting up did not sound like a good idea. But Hunk has said he should, so there must be a good reason. The man almost fell when he tried to get out of bed. He, with some effort, managed to stand and yank a shirt clumsily over his head. He glanced down, frowning at the fact that he had to find clean pants. Once he had found jeans that smelled decent, he tugged them on, thankful that they fit without a belt. He ran a hand through his tuft of white hair, yawning as he did so. Right on cue, the doorbell rang, and Shiro hurried down the hall to open it.

"Wow, you look horrible," came a voice from the couch. Shiro paused long enough to stick his tongue out at his roommate Keith (childish, he knew) before joining the waiting man at the door.

Hunk grinned, peeking around the doorframe to wave at Keith. "Hey, dude. Haven't seen you in way too long."

Keith saluted dramatically, then turned his focus back to the television. Shiro threw his arm around his boyfriend, steering him out the door and away from his annoying little brother.

"So, you had something to show me?" The twenty-five year old raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, you're going to love it. Or, at least, I hope you do. I used to come here a lot, before the Garrison, I mean, but I've never showed another person, so I don't actually know what others will think."

Shiro placed a hand on Hunk's shoulder, and felt the other relax slightly. At that point both were in the car, and Hunk had started driving. After a fifteen minute silent car ride, Hunk parked at a shady-looking diner.

"This is what you wanted to show me?" Shiro asked doubtfully.

"No, this is just the parking spot," Hunk answered, climbing out of the car. "Come on." Shiro followed his boyfriend around the back of the shabby building and saw that Hunk was leading him to a tiny trail in the forests behind the diner. They slipped through the trees, following the tiny gap in the underbrush.

"It's a bit of a walk, I hate to say," Hunk broke the silence sheepishly. Shiro responded by slipping his hand into his boyfriend's. After a while they slowed. "Close your eyes," the mechanic instructed. Shiro complied, squeezing his partner's hand, trusting him. He took several more steps before he felt warmth on his face and sensed the world open up around him, and he knew they had left the trees behind.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now," Hunk's voice floated to Shiro's ears. He pried his eyes open, squinting from the sunlight. After a second he was able to adjust to the light and see the view in front of him.

They stood in a meadow. It wasn't too big, surrounded on all sides by the same forest they had just walked out of. It was mostly flat, with a slight slope on one side. But what struck Shiro the most were the flowers. The entire meadow was covered in flowers. Flowers of every shape and size and color. The field was a rainbow of floral confetti. The beauty of it made Shiro's breath catch in his throat.

"Beautiful, isn't it? As far as I know, no one else knows this place exists." Hunk squeezed his hand again, then tugged it, urging him forward. Shiro hesitated, not wanting to crush the flowers. As if reading his mind, his boyfriend spoke again. "They're durable plants, don't worry about harming them." Shiro let himself be led to the approximate middle of the clearing, where he noticed a boulder.

Hunk lowered himself gracefully to the ground, and once he was leaning on the rock, patted the ground between his legs as an indication that the pilot should sit. Shiro did, settling himself so that he was leaning back against the cook's chest, Hunk's muscular arms snaked around the other's waist.

"This place," Shiro murmured, completely content. "Thank you for showing me. It's amazing."

"It's ours," the mechanic murmured softly. Shiro's eyes started to slip closed and he didn't try to stop them. A minute later he was asleep, and soon after so was Hunk.

They stayed that way for over an hour. Two people, alone in a silent sea of blossoms. Two bodies, frozen in the peace of slumber. Two minds, fully relaxed for the first time in years. Two hearts, beating as one.

 **And, that is all! I totally forgot to say before, but this drabble was edited by my best friend Kenobi1, by that name on FanFiction and AO3. She is awesome, and has some really neat posted stories on her account, including at least one Shiro whump, so go give her some love! Reviews are always appreciated, as they let me know that people actually read my work, and constructive criticism is very welcome. Hope you enjoyed!**

 **~April**


	2. Day 2: Shiro x Matt

**Hey, welcome back! This is day 2 of my Shiro Ship Week, and today's ship is Shatt. The prompt is proposal, and the rating is somewhere in between K and T. It's super long, much longer than yesterday's, possibly because this is my Voltron OTP. This chapter is only edited by me, because Kenobi1 was busy today, but you should still check her work out. Not as much to say today, so enjoy!**

 **Also, I forgot to say in the last chapter, but I don't own VLD. If I did, a few things would be different. *cough cough Lotor's betrayal***

Shiro wrung his hands nervously. He had just been informed that they couldn't go back to Earth without Matthew Holt. Right after he had been informed that he was alive, as if that itself wasn't a sucker punch to Shiro's nerves. And yeah, the rebel deserved to go home with everyone else. But that meant they'd have to meet up with him. Which was fine. Except Shiro hadn't seen him in years. Except his clone had seen him. Except he wasn't sure how Matt would react to the real him. Except he wasn't sure how he'd react to him.

Shiro didn't want to hurt Matt. He had no idea how his best friend would react to him, not a clone but actually him. Shiro didn't know what their relationship was, and he was scared of doing something to push Matt away. Maybe he could avoid the rebel. They weren't on the castle anymore, and Matt would surely ride in Green with his sister.

Shiro stopped. No. He wasn't going to sit and pace. He was going to end up seeing Matt, he couldn't avoid him. And, if he was being honest with himself, he really wanted to see Matt's face.

Oh, quiznak, he really didn't want to avoid Matt.

The Black Paladin sighed. At the thought of Matt's face, the universe had laughed in his face and dumped a bucket of emotions on his head. Yes, he would admit, he wanted to see Matt again. He wanted to be with him. He missed him so, so much, and he never wanted to let him go again.

Shiro's brow furrowed. There was a way for that to happen. And, oh quiznak, he'd do it in a heartbeat. Assuming his and Matt's relationship hadn't been shattered by his clone, he'd do it. But he'd need a bit of help.

The pilot strode out of Black's mouth, where he had been processing his emotions. Taking a short break from traveling, the team had landed on a planet and we're hanging out and relaxing. Shiro spotted Keith, Pidge, and Lance training a short distance away from the rest of the group, and he approached them.

"Short range!" Shouted Keith, who was watching the other two paladins spar. Pidge nodded, bayard clicking into place and electricity turning on. Lance's shotgun melded into a sword and he shifted his stance. Shiro watched the match from afar, and though the Red Paladin was getting better with a blade, Pidge still came out on top.

"Nice work," she lowered her bayard, holding out a hand. Lance took it and returned the handshake, and the techie walked off to sit on a log, wiping sweat off her brow. Keith approached his second-in-command, and Shiro heard him giving a few pointers.

Pidge was the one to notice him first. "Hey, Shiro," she commented, noticing his slightly downturned lips. "You okay?"

"Yeah, thanks Pidge. I just need to talk to you and Keith." The former Champion responded. Green's Paladin nodded and signaled for the galra boy to join them. A few words were exchanged between Keith and Lance, and the latter moved to join the rest of the group a distance away.

"What was it you needed, Shiro?" His little brother inquired.

Shiro took a deep breath, suddenly slightly flustered. "I need your-" he paused. "I need your blessing." Both stares at him blankly, so he started to explain, rushed from embarrassment. "I mean, you two are my brother and Matt's brother, so, I mean, traditionally I need your permission to-"

Pidge caught on first, cutting him off with a gasp. "Shiro! Really? Oh my gosh, that's so exciting!"

"And I bet the Alteans would be excited to learn about Earth's culture like that," Keith added, understanding a moment later. Pidge shot him a look.

"I mean, if you wanted to show them that part of our culture, you didn't have to wait for Shiro," she grinned, glancing pointedly at where the team was listening to Lance talk about something, probably a story judging by his animated gestures.

"You gremlin!" Keith hissed, lunging at her, and Shiro had to clear his throat to remind them of his presence. They froze.

"So, does this mean you approve?" He asked sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

"Whatcha say, Keith, want to be my brother-in-law?"

"We approve, Shiro." The orphan smiled at him, one of his real smiles, the ones usually unseen. The effect was slightly ruined by the fact that he was still pinning Pidge to the ground. However, Shiro felt a similar smile creep onto his own face, and, for just a moment, was sure that things would work out.

The feeling was broken a second later. The roar of an engine broke through the peace settled over the planet, as a green, orange, and white ship broke through the atmosphere. Keith jumped up and hoisted Pidge to her feet, seemingly forgetting about their argument, and both ran to greet the shuttle. Shiro hung back, all of his earlier worries resurrecting themselves in the form of a swarm of butterflies in his stomach. Matt was going to be weirded out. He was going to be mad at Shiro for not being there when he came back. He was going to be mad at Shiro for not being the one to find him. He was going to be mad at Shiro for injuring him the last time he saw him. He was going to hate Shiro, oh quiznak, he-

For a second, the pilot thought he might puke. He clutched his gut, dizzy, and leaned on a blue-tinted tree. He clenched his jaw shut, trying to resist the feeling of bile rising in his throat. His stomach churned and he doubled over. His eyes still flicked upwards, despite his nausea, and he was just in time to witness the shuttle door opening.

All possibilities of vomiting were immediately eliminated, as, at the sight of his best friend, Shiro's breath decided to take a vacation. The nervousness swirling in his abdomen evaporated, replaced with awe. His mind froze, then seemed to play catch-up as a million thoughts swirled through his brain.

Matt had grown. His hair was longer and he was taller, which suited him. He had developed muscles too, Shiro noticed, eyes trailing over his biceps and pecs, visible even through his rebel armor. Warmth blossomed in the former Champion's cheeks, and he straightened, staying by the tree, suddenly shyer than he would have liked to admit.

He observed from afar as Matt greeted his sister, then the rest of the Paladins, and met Romelle and Krolia. He was postponing the inevitable, he knew, but he was scared. He'd admit it. Unfortunately, he couldn't draw his eyes away from the man, which meant that they made eye contact the second Matt glanced in his direction.

Time slowed. The world faded away, until the only thing Shiro could see was the rebel. He was vaguely aware of moving forward, but he couldn't take his eyes off of his best friend. Shiro could clearly see every detail of Matt, his shaggy hair, his distinguished jawline, the scar marring his left cheek. And his eyes. His eyes were sadder, the eyes of someone who had seen too much at too young of an age. They still contained a sparkle, however, one Shiro recognized as hope. And they were staring straight into Shiro's.

Funny things twirled in Shiro's heart. He was falling, but also flying. His heart was being crushed but it felt lighter than ever. He longed for something unknown, something missing, but he also felt fulfilled. His heart beat irregularly, his mind almost shut down. He knew this feeling.

Quiznak, he had just fallen in love all over again.

"No matter how much we fought," Matt whispered. The sound of his voice snapped Shiro out of his stupor, and the pilot found himself reciting the other half of the quote. It had been their agreed-upon password, years ago, before Kerberos. Shiro had never said his half out loud before, but the words rolled off his tongue as if he had said them every day of his life.

"I've always hated to watch you leave," came the breathless murmur.

New light flooded into the rebel's eyes at hearing the response. Worry was replaced with relief, and the scientist broke out into an elated grin. "Takashi," he sighed. "It is you."

Before Shiro could process what had happened, calloused hands had wrapped around his neck, and smooth lips pressed into his. Shiro instinctively leaned into the embrace, muscle memory taking over, his hands instinctively finding their way to and wrapping around the other's waist, as they had a thousand times before. His eyes were closed, Matt's hands pressing at the back of his neck and under his chin to pull them closer together.

Kissing Matt felt as natural to Shiro as breathing. More, in fact. It felt like he had taken a breath of air, after suffocating for years. Something he didn't know he had been missing had clicked into place. He felt more complete than he had since, well, since Kerberos.

At one point, space emerged between the lips of the two young men. Shiro, not wanting it to end, instinctively stretched forward to continue the embrace. He wasn't sure how long they had been kissing. Seconds, minutes, hours? He didn't care, it wasn't enough. Matt won, however, and pulled away. The two ended up resting their foreheads together, breathing heavily.

"I missed you," the rebel gasped, "so, so much."

"Me too." Shiro wasted no time replying. Breaking away from Matt had set his brain back in motion, and his thinking was back on track. And he had something to do.

"I'm sorry, Matt," he started. "The last time I saw you, I hurt you, and then my clone-"

Matt silenced him with another kiss, a shorter one. "It's not your fault, Shiro. The clone thing was the Galra's doing, and by hurting me you saved my life. You have nothing to be sorry for, and everything to be thanked for."

Shiro's shoulders relaxed, and he exhaled. "Matt, I've been thinking. No, let me talk," he added, seeing the scientist's face. "Matt, we were just separated for close to two years, and I never want that to happen again. We're here, in space, fighting against an alien dictatorship, which constantly puts us in danger. We could die any day. And we're young, too young. I know I'm only twenty five, and you're just twenty two, but every day we could lose each other. I already went through two years of my life without you, and honestly? I don't want to go through any more. So, I know we're way too young, but we could die tomorrow and I don't want to waste any more time. I-" Shiro faltered, nervousness returning in full force.

"Matt, I love you, more than I thought it was possible to love someone. I've always been the biggest rule follower, but if loving you was wrong I wouldn't want to be right. I fell in love with a scrawny, science obsessed kid eleven years ago, and every day I'm falling farther still. We have no time to waste, and I really want to spend the rest of my life with you. So-" the pilot's breath caught in his throat, and only the waiting golden eyes of his soulmate were enough to prompt him to conclude his speech.

"Matthew Holt, will you marry me?"

The world was deathly silent. Shiro suddenly became hyperaware of multiple eyes trained on the two of them, though he didn't tear his gaze from his lover. For a split second he was frozen in fear, voices in his head whispering that he had messed everything up.

"You're not going to get down on one knee?" The rebel broke the silence, and Shiro wanted to cry with relief. Matt's teasing meant only one thing, even though he hadn't said it out loud.

"It's not like I have a ring to present or anything," the former Champion protested good-naturedly, but then his tone turned serious. "So, do you accept?"

Matt laughed, then pulled Shiro's head closer, so that their foreheads rested together. "Of course I do, Kashi," he whispered lovingly. He tilted his head up to once again capture Shiro in a kiss, though it didn't last long.

A bullet of a human rammed into the two young men, wrapping her arms around their waists. Shiro detached his prosthetic from his new fiancé's waist to hug Pidge, who apparently couldn't bear to just stand around any longer. A second later they were joined by Keith, and soon after everyone else, in a giant, laughing group hug.

"I can't tell you how long I've wanted to say those words," Shiro told his soulmate, both still surrounded by the joyous warmth of the group's hug.

Matt's ear-splitting grin softened. "I'm really glad you said them, Kashi. I couldn't imagine anyone I'd rather spend my life with than you."

In that moment, Shiro could swear his heart exploded with happiness.

 **Yay for Shatt!! Matt is the greatest thing to possibly happen to this series, he is pure awesomeness. Anyways, sorry for any mistakes, as this is unedited. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, or followed, it means a lot! Those three things really help encourage a writer, so if you've got a spare moment let me know what you thought! Bye for now!**

 **~April**


	3. Day 3: Shiro x Lance

**So...if you live in the same time zone as me (Eastern Standard Time) then it is currently midnight. So I'm posting this late. Sorry!**

 **Anyway, today's (yesterday's) prompt is Stars, and I'm doing Shiro x Lance, because that is immediately who I thought of for this prompt. At first I was unsure about this pairing, but they're actually really cute and there's some great fanart for them, it wouldn't be a waste of time to go look at it. Rating would probably be a low T, warnings for depression and self-deprecation. It has been a full 24 hours and I still don't own VLD, and no one is surprised. Kenobi1 once again editid this chapter, and helped me a lot with writing about depression, but even so, if there are any inaccuracies I apologize profusely.**

 **Also, if anyone figured out what Matt and Shiro's password was from the last chapter, props to you! It's a quote from Star Wars The Force Awakens, by the way. Enjoy Day 3!**

Shiro couldn't take it. His head pounded, the noise of yet another celebratory banquet crushing his skull. He had to leave. Somewhere. Anywhere but this.

After whispering to Allura that he was going back to the castle, the Black Paladin slipped away from the festivities, soon reaching the ship. He made his way to a room he had discovered not too long ago, settling down on the ground.

The room was empty, devoid of all furniture, a blank square chamber. The only thing it possessed was a yawning window, spanning an entire wall and the ceiling, so Shiro could lay on his back and watch the stars. He did just that.

"Reminds you of Earth, doesn't it?" A soft and nostalgic voice interrupted the silence surrounding the paladin. "The way you can lay on your back and watch the stars through the trees. How they're fixed, not moving like they do when we're flying in the castle. I know, I miss it too."

Shiro turned his head, finding himself inches from a familiar pair of grey and black sneakers. The owner of the shoes lowered himself to the floor until he was laying by his leader, gazing into the sky.

"Lance, why are you here? You should be out there enjoying the party," the Black Paladin insisted.

"I was worried," came the swift reply. "And besides, it's just a party. Honestly, I could use a little break." He sighed. "Are you okay?"

Shiro thought about lying, saying that he was fine, and rejoining the celebration outside, but he knew it would only delay the conversation. Lance knew people, and he could tell when something was wrong. There was no use trying to hide it from him.

"I haven't been sleeping well recently," the pilot admitted. "I just don't feel qualified to lead Voltron. Everyone sees me as some superhero, escaping the Galra and then becoming the black paladin of Voltron. But I'm not like that, I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm scared, Lance. I'm not a fighter, I'm just a pilot. Some day everyone else is going to wake up and realize that, and then what's going to happen? Sometimes I think they should just replace me now. I'm not fit to lead Voltron."

The other paladin exhaled slowly, taking in the information. "I know how you feel, Shiro. More than I'd care to admit. I know I'm the least valuable paladin." He held up a hand as Shiro opened his mouth to protest. "At least, that's what my brain tells me. I know deep down that it's not true, and no one is any more or less important than the others, but that's what self-deprecation is. Your mind will notice all the littlest details and use them to tell you that you're a failure, or a freak, or a loser. It doesn't make it true."

"Lance-" Shiro paused, shocked, when a warm hand found his in the dark. He felt his cheeks heat slightly, though he had no idea why, and was suddenly thankful that there were no lights in the room. "You aren't worthless Lance, and we do need you." He informed the other paladin once he had collected himself.

"I know, Shiro. Despite everything my brain says, I know I'm needed. And you should too." He squeezed the Black Paladin's hand comfortingly. "No one expects you to be perfect. We know you're doing your best, and that's all anyone could ask for. You don't have to make every right decision, in fact, it's impossible. Besides, it's okay to feel worthless, you don't have to feel good all the time." He turned his head, making eye contact. "We wouldn't change you for the world, Shiro." The sincerity of the sentence caught the pilot off guard, and Lance smiled softly.

"You need to sleep, Shiro. Do you think it'd help if you were in here, looking at the stars?" The former Champion only nodded, and the Cuban boy pushed himself into a sitting position. "Good, then we'll sleep in here tonight. I'll be right back, take off your vest, belt, and boots. You need to be comfortable." It wasn't really a question, but it wasn't an order either. Shiro found his eyes following the younger paladin's retreating back, his gaze lingering on the door even after he had gone. Almost mechanically he took off his tool belt, boots, and vest, like requested.

After a few minutes, Lance returned with a blanket, his jacket in his hand. "Here," he handed the clothing to the Black Paladin. "You won't be able to sleep unless you're comfortable, and this is the closest thing to a hoodie we have on the ship."

"No, Lance, I'm fine," the twenty five year old protested, but he could feel exhaustion setting in, and a disbelieving look from the younger boy was all it took to change his mind. He shrugged on the jacket, which was admittedly much more comfortable than he had expected.

Lance, meanwhile, had sat himself down, leaning against a wall. He patted the ground next to him, and the Black Paladin dragged himself over, flopping on the ground nearby. He was too drowsy to protest when the Cuban suggested he use him as a pillow, and barely noticed the calming fingers running through his tuft of white hair. He was out within the minute, falling asleep to soft murmurings in Spanish and the sight of the twinkling stars high above him.

Needless to say, he was absolutely mortified when he woke up the next morning on the floor, his head in Lance's lap, wearing the other's jacket and draped in one of the castle's blankets. He snuck away from the younger paladin, who was still asleep against the wall, leaving the jacket for him to find. He had to lock himself in his room for most of the morning to process what had happened, and even when he did come out, he didn't make eye contact with Lance all day. He couldn't, not without his cheeks and ears flaring madly and his words tangling themselves in his mouth. Quiznak, he might have a small problem.

It was the best he'd slept since the Kerberos mission.

 **And...done with day 3! Shance is actually pretty easy to write, and they're so freaking cute, guys. As always, thanks to all who reviewed, favorited, and followed; those three things really encourage me to write and I'm so grateful! Until later today (because yeah it's past midnight), bye!**

 **~April**


	4. Day 4: Shiro x Ulaz

**Hey! It's late...again. So this is day 4, and the prompt was amnesia. The rating is around K, and the ship is Shiro x Ulaz. This is a rewrite of sorts of Shiro's escape from the Galra, except Haggar has wiped his memory of everything before the rings. He knows vaguely who Matt is because he slashed his leg, but has no idea of the existence of Keith, Iverson, or even Sam. Also, this is another drabble that was edited by the one and only Kenobi1, so go read her stuff! Do it! Not much else to say here, enjoy!**

 **Unfortunately but unsurprisingly, I still don't own VLD.**

"Wake up!"

Words hissed into his ear roused Shiro from an uncomfortable slumber. He pried his eyelids apart, blinking to clear the sleep from them. They focused on a lavender head bending over him. Shiro recognized that head. It was the nice technician, the one that talked to him when they were alone, who talked badly about the Galra, even though he was one. Shiro didn't know anything about him, but he was Shiro's favorite. Not that the bar was set very high.

Shiro didn't understand the technician. The prisoner had spent too long to count as a test subject for the Galra Empire, and had long since accepted the fact that he was considered a lower being than the Galra were. He lived as a weapon, the Champion of the witch, Haggar, forever bound to fight for her. She had stolen all of his memories as soon as he had been brought to her, and being a prisoner was all he knew. He fought three times a week in the gladiator rings, and was experimented on for most of his spare hours. The scientists, druids, and technicians that cut him open and prodded at him all day never seemed to view him as a creature even close to equal as them, and on the surface, this technician didn't seem any different. When they were with others, he would do his job swiftly and silently, like all the others. But when they were alone, he would talk to Shiro, explaining the procedures to him so that he could prepare himself mentally. Shiro had realized early on that the technician was different from the rest of the Galra, but he'd never expected the small acts of kindness to amount to anything.

"Come, you have to go. They will be back soon," the technician hissed again, undoing the straps that bound Shiro to the examining table. He helped the prisoner to his feet, letting Shiro sag into his lean form to find his balance.

"What are you doing?" The Champion questioned, still groggy from sleep.

"Helping you escape. I am sorry that I had to torture you so much. It was necessary for the plan to work, but it was never enjoyable." The two trudged through the familiar hallways of the Galra base, though Shiro has no idea where they were going. The tinted walls blurred together for him, after a while, though the alien next to him seemed to know where to go.

"Why are you doing this?" Shiro inquired as they stopped to let a group of sentries pass by.

"I am not a part of the Galra Empire," came the reply. "I am with a secret organization called the Blade if Marmora, a rebel faction that wants to take down the corrupted Emperor Zarkon. You are a great weapon to the Empire, and must be removed from their grasp for our plan to work. Besides, you do not deserve to spend your whole life as their plaything." He finished.

"What plan?" The Champion bugged the technician as they rounded a corner.

"Do not worry about it, little one. My job is only to help you escape, so we are going to steal a shuttle from the hangar. You are going back to Earth, where you can be safe. You should try to find Keith."

"But I don't remember anything about Earth," Shiro protested. "I would die within a day. And who's Keith?"

"I do not know. You mumble his name in your sleep. I believe he is one of your clan members." The alien replied matter-of-factly. Shiro wasn't quite sure what the human equivalent of a Galra clan was, but he thought it sounded nice to have someone to care for him, the way he knew Galra clans cared for each other. The pair paused to avoid a couple of guards.

"You will be all right, little one." The technician assured the prisoner. "Once you get to Earth, you should come into contact with things that will bring back your memories. They are buried deep inside you, but not even Haggar has the ability to completely erase a memory. And even if they somehow do not return, you will adapt. You seem to be much better at that then most humans. I have faith in you."

They reached the Galra hangar. After skirting a few sentries and punching an unlucky guard unconscious, they managed to reach a suitable pod. The Galra technician climbed into the shuttle, punching some numbers into the system. Coordinates. He helped the escapee into the single seat, then climbed out, leaning in the side of the small ship.

"I have been stocking this pod for weeks, so there should be enough food to last until you reach Earth," the alien informed Shiro. "Even so, you should ration it so that it does not run out. The coordinates are set, so you will not need to know how to fly the pod, or where to go. It will do all of that itself."

"But-"

"Shiro," the galra's voice was softer than the Champion had ever heard it. "You will be all right." He reaches up hesitantly. "May I...do something?" Shiro only nodded. The alien stretched up, pressing his lips softly against the human's. The kiss was soft and comforting, but also tentative. After a second, the technician pulled away, making eye contact with the escaping Champion.

"Good luck," he whispered. Something stirred in Shiro, a feeling that was vaguely familiar to him. Love? No, Love was stronger, he was sure. But the feeling was one that sent a shiver down his spine and made his heart flutter. Adoration? Fondness? Attraction? It was something along those lines, Shiro was almost positive.

The technician turned away, taking a few steps in the opposite direction. "Wait!" Shiro called after him, leaning out the side of the pod. The Galra paused, turning. "I don't even know your name," the prisoner pointed out.

"Ulaz," came the simple reply, and then he was gone.

 **That's it for now! As always, thanks to all who reviewed, favorited, or followed. I really appreciate it, you guys are amazing! See you tomorrow!**

 **~April**


	5. Day 5: Shiro x Sendak

**To be fair, it was still the correct day when I started writing this A/N. It is now slightly past, so I apologize, but it's here now and that's all I can do. Today's chapter is Shiro x Sendak, which is for the prompt of AU, because I honestly can not get behind this in canon, or even close to it. The AU is a rival gang AU, where Shiro is a part of Voltron and Sendak is in TGE, The Galra Empire. They are rival gangs, although it isn't really mentioned, and basically this chapter is the two of them sneaking out to hook up in an alley.**

 **The rating for this deserves a whole paragraph. It is somewhere between T and M, probably mostly depending on your age and innocence. Some people might find this tame, while it may be too much for others, so just be careful reading. I'm not sure if this is NSFW, because I'm not sure exactly where the line is drawn, but it's nothing more than descriptive making out. Still, please read cautiously.**

 **Also, there is a nod (not even really a reference, just a nod) to BBC's Sherlock, because apparently I am incapable of writing a story without at least one Sherlock reference. Both Shiro and Sendak still have two arms in this drabble, but Sendak only has one eye. And when I refer to the two as lovers, I mean physically only. There's no romance there, it's those two.**

 **Guess what? I don't own VLD.**

Shiro glanced at the watch on his right wrist. The electronic numbers displayed that it was a quarter until ten. He had fifteen minutes.

Moving slowly, so as not to draw attention to himself, he slipped out the door to the bar, thankful that the whole team was distracted because of Lance and Keith's pool game, the sixth this week. Those two were honestly too competitive for their own good, but Shiro wasn't complaining this time. It allowed him to escape.

He tugged on his leather jacket, turning up the collar against the wind. He jammed his keys into the ignition of his motorcycle, and five minutes later found him cruising down side streets toward the other side of town. Dangerous territory.

A few minutes later, he arrived at his destination, running his fingers through his windswept hair to try to get it under control. He nudged his foot at the kickstand on his bike, leaving it in a parking spot and slipping into a narrow alley between two tall buildings.

Shiro ran his fingers through his hair again, a nervous tick of his, while he glanced from side to side. He was leaning casually against the brick, about halfway down the alleyway. It was a skinny one, the kind people got mugged and murdered in.

Out of nowhere, a rough hand reached his shoulder from behind, yanking him backwards and pinning him against the wall. Shiro didn't have to look to know who it was, but his eyes still drank in the eyepatch, heavy eyebrows, and slicked back hair that was just slightly too long. Sendak.

The larger man grinned predatorily, moving so as to trap Shiro against the wall. "You're late," was all the Voltron member said, tone flat.

"I'm here now," the other growled, resting a hand on the wall next to Shiro's head. They didn't waste any more time with words.

Sendak closed the distance between the two with almost inhuman speed, their lips crashing together. Shiro's hands wrapped around his lover, one fist gripping the collar of his jacket and the other around his waist. His mouth slid open and Sendak took the opportunity to shove his tongue inside. The kiss was angry and lustful, purely physical, like all of the pair's interactions. The intent was adrenaline-fueled enjoyment only.

As their tongues warred, mostly inside Shiro's mouth, the Galran gang member's free hand began to wander. His right was still on the wall, but the left fingered the Voltron member's belt loops. It crept slowly up his hips, pushing aside his unzipped jacket and up his shirt. Shiro shivered at the touch, and the larger man snarled in response, a guttural noise in the back of his throat.

The smaller man's hands found their way back in front of him, on Sendak's chest. He shoved backwards and the contact was broken, both parties slightly gasping for air. The break, however, lasted only a few seconds, and soon the two were once again entangled in a passionate embrace. Their lips still forced together, the pair moved slightly away from the wall, the one-eyed man tearing the leather jacket off of his lover's shoulders, Shiro letting him. The black fabric ended up in a pile on the ground, dangerously close to being crushed by two pairs of heavy duty combat boots. With the thicker layer of clothing out of the way, it was much easier for Sendak to trail his hands up the shirt of his lover, which he did.

Shiro groaned at the touches, the sound spurring on the larger man. He bit the Voltron member's bottom lip, pulling away just enough to elicit another sigh from him. Then he let his lips leave the smaller's, tracing a trail down his neck with his tongue. One hand came up to pin Shiro's wrist against the brick, the other still under his shirt. Shiro didn't protest until he felt Sendak's teeth against his collarbone.

Yanking his wrist free of the Galran gang member's grasp, he shoved him away once again, and this time, though they once again closed the distance between them, they didn't resume their heated embrace.

"No marks," Shiro panted, trying to catch his breath. "I have somewhere to be after this."

"So do I," the other man growled.

"I can't look like I've been thrown through a blender," the Voltron member added, and Sendak only nodded, attacking him with renewed vigor.

They stayed that way for a while, lips locked together and hands up each other's shirts. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours; Shiro sure as hell wasn't counting.

Their moment of pleasure couldn't last forever, though. Eventually, they were interrupted by a small but insistent beeping. Sendak's watch demanded that they part, and, after a second of failing to ignore the incessant noise, they broke apart for the last time that day.

Shiro, still breathing heavily, glanced at his own watch, on which the numbers displayed that it was almost ten thirty. He nodded to Sendak, not trusting himself to speak, before bending down and pulling on his jacket.

"Same time on Saturday?" The one-eyed man grunted, and Shiro confirmed that he'd be there. Then the two set off in opposite directions, the smaller returning to his bike.

As Shiro sped away from the alley, a small smile played across his lips. He couldn't help it. Although he had been warned against hookups from almost everyone he knew and was well aware that they always came back to bite people in he butt, it felt too good to stop. Shiro was in a gang, he knew he would die soon, and he was determined to make his short life worth it. If Sendak made it worth it, screw their gang rivalry, Shiro was going to keep coming back until it killed him.

 **Sorry for the ending, it was slightly rushed (I just got lazy). Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed, and if you haven't done one of those yet, go do it! Or check out Kenobi1's stories. She edited parts of this, because she is a pure beam of sunshine, but as such prefers to stay away from more mature content. So she edited about half of this, and I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes. Did you catch the Sherlock nod? Shiro turns his coat collar up just like our favorite high-functioning sociopath. Also he doesn't wear a helmet ;) Thanks for reading; later pala-dudes!**

 **~April**


	6. Day 6: Shiro x Keith

**I'm back. No exclamation marks because this is not a happy chapter. This prompt is bed-sharing, and the ship is Sheith. There's a bit of platonic sibling Shidge too, where Pidge worries about Shiro. It's a rather loose interpretation of the prompt, because Keith and Shiro used to share a bed. But no writing of mine would be complete without death, so this fic is basically Shiro dealing with Keith's death. Rated T, trigger warnings are for depression, death, loss/grief, and suicide. Please be careful everyone, please. The intent is to hurt the characters, but never the readers. It gets really dark at the end, so, again, be careful.**

 **I still don't own VLD. Also, it's super late and this is only somewhat edited so I'm sorry for any mistakes.**

A heart wrenching sob pierced the darkness of the small bedroom. The room was entirely bare of personal belongings, except a purple-handled dagger, which was laying on the floor, thrown there in anger. A man was on the bed, curled up into the fetal position and clutching the only blanket to his chest. Tears soaked the pillow.

Shiro howled again. He couldn't take it. His head pounded with dehydration, but he couldn't stop crying. It had been two days since he had tried to sleep, two days since the battle. Two days since his world had fallen apart.

It had been a simple reconnaissance mission. They had snuck into one of the larger Galra bases, purely for information. They had all ridden in Green, because she had the only cloaking system. After they snuck in, they had overtaken the control room, and Pidge had plugged into the computer system. After she had gathered the intel, they were supposed to get out quickly and quietly. Of course that hadn't happened.

While they were waiting for Pidge to finish downloading the info, they had been ambushed by four Galra soldiers. And not just robot sentries, flesh and blood Galra. There had been a huge battle, but the Paladins had won. Or so they'd thought.

Shiro remembered every bit of what came next. He remembered Lance and Hunk's fist-bump, their triumphant smiles lighting up the room. He remembered Pidge's sigh of relief as she typed away on her laptop. He also remembered turning around, grin on his face, and meeting Keith's blank eyes, his mouth frozen open in shock. Shiro recalled exactly how his eyes traveled down to the spiraling crack in the paladin's armor, the blood gushing out of the gaping wound. He had run to the other paladin, catching him as he fell. Of course he had called for medical assistance, and Lance had wrapped his wound tightly with some spare bandages, but he needed a healing pod quicker than they could get to one.

He had died in Green's underbelly.

Now, two full days later, the realization was hitting Shiro. After agonizing hours of staying with the body of his teammate, best friend, and boyfriend, Pidge had convinced him that he needed to rest. Unfortunately, being in his bed only reminded him more of Keith.

Shiro sobbed again, clutching the blanket tighter. He still remembered exactly what it felt like to have Keith's arms around him when he fell asleep. The comforting presence of another human next to him had always helped Shiro relax, but the Red Paladin would never again be there to comfort the former Champion during one of his nightmares.

How was Shiro supposed to battle his demons alone? Keith had always been there, drawing circles on his back and soothing him with soft whispers, telling him that he was safe and everything was going to be all right. But nothing was going to be right ever again. Shiro gelt so alone, so abandoned, curled up in the empty bed, in the empty bedroom, in the slightly too empty castle. He wanted Keith next to him, no, needed Keith next to him, and was willing to do anything to get him back. Shiro even thought about suicide, but he couldn't do that. Not to the paladins. Not to Keith.

So he holed himself up in Keith's room, not coming out for anything. The sobs eventually slowed, because of dehydration, but Shiro was still crying without the tears. Every once in a while, the heaving would almost come to a stop, and the Black Paladin would think that he had it under control, but then he'd glimpse Keith's knife on the floor, or hear his voice in his head, and the pilot would dissolve into a fresh wave of wailing. The back of his mind was slightly curious as to why no one had burst in and gagged him to shut him up yet, but he was too decimated to care.

Some point in time came a soft knock at the door. "Shiro?" Came a small voice. "You need to eat. I brought you dinner." Shiro did not respond, but wiped his eyes and glanced up at the door.

"Shiro?" Came the voice again. It was Pidge. "I know you're hurting, I am too. But you have to take care of yourself, you have to eat." Her voice cracked, and Shiro could hear the beginnings of a whimper in her throat. "Takashi, please."

Shiro couldn't bear to hear the youngest Holt like that, but he couldn't muster the willpower to get out of bed either. "Come in," he croaked, voice almost nonexistent from crying. The door cracked open, and the genius was silhouetted in the light, a tray in her arms.

"I'll leave this here," she told him, placing the tray on the ground. "I know you don't want to, but you need to eat." She gave him a hug, her tiny arms barely reaching around his hunched form, and then she was gone. And Shiro was once again alone.

He didn't end up eating. He didn't have the willpower. After the crying stopped, all Shiro felt was numb. He didn't get out of the bed for what was probably multiple days. Sometimes he thought he'd hear Keith speak, or feel something brush against his shoulder, but no one was ever there. That would bring more tears, but not many. Shiro's body didn't physically have enough water to supply them.

The paladin lost weight. He was constantly dizzy, and headaches frequented his skull. His stomach gnawed at itself, his insides feeling the consequences of his self-starvation. He didn't care. His own body didn't matter anymore, and after a while he just stopped feeling things. The food that Pidge had left still sat there, and no one had come in since. Realistically, his brain told him that it had probably only been a few hours since her visit, but it felt like an eternity. At one point, out of the blue, he sat up. His bloodshot eyes fixated on the knife curiously almost.

He didn't want to live. That much he knew. He'd survived being a champion, he'd survived being a paladin. But he didn't want to survive this.

Almost unconsciously, he stood, reaching for the knife on the floor. He climbed back into the bed, and drew the blade across his wrist. Blood pooled from the deadly wound, and Shiro laid back down on the mattress, waiting patiently. He didn't have two wrists to slit, but patience yielded focus. He would wait a few extra minutes if he had to.

The blood gathered in the sheets, soaking both them and the dying human on top of them. It didn't take long for Shiro to start losing his grip on reality. It didn't really hurt; the paladin had been through much more, but he could feel his heart struggle. For a second he thought of Lance, Hunk, Pidge, Allura, and Coran. They would probably be devastated, but Shiro couldn't bring himself to care enough to try to stop the bleeding. He wasn't even scared when he felt himself slipping unconscious for the last time.

After all, he was going to see Keith again. That was the only thing that really mattered.

 **That got dark, fast. I don't have much to say here. Reviews, favorites, and follows are appreciated. Thanks for reading, I wish I could say that tomorrow's is better, but it isn't. It's not quite as dark (I think, I haven't written it yet), but it's still not a happy topic. I have literally nothing else to say, and my emotions are too tangled to summon a cheerful goodbye, even in text. Thank you again for reading this though, it does mean a lot to me.**

 **~April**


	7. Day 7: Shiro x Lotor

**I** **wanted to post this on time, I really did. But if you'll remember, I said a few chapters ago that my time zone is EST, which is the East coast to Midwest of the United States. My town has a Fourth of July (Independence Day) tradition that we hold a rib fest on the last day of June each year, and it's turned into a town-wide holiday. So I was at the rib fest (if you don't know, a rib fest is a festival-like thing, and ours had food trucks, bounce houses, hot air balloons, fireworks, etc.) My neighborhood also had a block party, and we went to that after the rib fest, where I saw the best fireworks show of my life. But anyway, we didn't even get home until midnight, so there was no way I could have posted this on time. I'm sorry!**

 **This is the last chapter of Shiro Ship week! Today's prompt is Scars, and the pairing is Shiro x Lotor. This is a Season 5 Lotor, because we have discovered that he is actually a lying snake, and I hate him with a passion now. But in this story he's good. The rating is T, with warnings for panic attacks, self-harm, and abuse. Please be careful while reading.**

 **I still don't own VLD. Also, this chapter is unedited, and most of it was written between the hours of 12am and 2am, so I apologize for any mistakes or inaccuracies.**

Everything hurt. Shiro's body had become a punching bag, and bruises littered his body. He was pretty sure, if the stabbing pain in his chest was any indicator, that he also had at least one broken rib. Small slash marked covered his torso and arms, and one was even on his cheek, too close to his eye for comfort.

The inhabitants of the Castle of Lions had decided that they needed a break from fighting a war, so they had landed on a small planet, far away from the Galra. It was supposed to be a break, but they had been recognized by some of the locals, who were apparently anti-Voltron. There had been a scuffle, and the Paladins hadn't been in their armor. No armor meant no bayards, so they had gone fist to fist with the planet's inhabitants. Shiro had decided right after the fight that they needed more hand-to-hand training.

"We need to get you all checked out," Coran announced, once they'd arrived at the castle. "None of you look injured enough to need a healing pod, so I will do regular medical inspections. Hunk, you're first." The Yellow Paladin stepped forward and Coran quickly looked over him, patching the cuts made by the locals' switchblades. He repeated the process with every other paladin, and Allura, who had also been present. Nervousness grew in Shiro's stomach every time he finished someone.

"Shiro," The royal advisor called.

"I'm fine Coran, I can fix myself up," insisted the Black Paladin, not moving.

"Lad, I would prefer that I do your examination, just like everyone else." The Altean insisted. Shiro backed away slightly, shaking his head.

"No, Coran, I'm fine."

"You are not fine!" The advisor burst out. He rarely shouted, but when he did, it was serious.

"Coran," the paladin murmured, still backing away and starting to shake. "I can't."

Suddenly, strong arms enveloped him from behind. "I'll look at him," said a smooth voice. Lotor. Shiro was led out of the medical bay, and before he knew it, they were alone in his room.

"I have to examine you, Shiro," the Galra explained softly, sitting him down on his bed. He slowly reached for the human, trying to gently take his shirt off. Something clenched in Shiro's stomach, and his hand went swinging, hitting the alien square in the face. Lotor fell back, grunting, but his calm demeanor didn't change.

"No, no, no, no," Shiro mumbled feverishly. "Not again, not today. I don't want to fight, I don't want to!" Flashes of his time in the ring played in his mind, like a movie that skipped or a scratched record. He didn't know where he was. The ring felt so real, but he was seeing the arena, the examination room, and his cell all at once. It was disorienting.

Eventually, Shiro was able to calm down enough for his brain to register the bed beneath him. Once he did that, it wasn't too hard to come back to reality, and he became aware of his surroundings. He was in the Castle of Lions. He was safe.

"Shiro?" Lotor's soft voice made the paladin award of the Galra's presence. "Are you with me?"

"Lotor?"

"It's me," the alien reassured. "You're injured, Shiro, and I need to dress your wounds. I need you take your shirt off for me, can you do that?"

"No, no, I can't. They'll see," the pilot mumbled, still not thinking too clearly. "I can't let them see, they can't know..." He trailed off.

"The scars?" The prince asked. "It's okay, Shiro. I have them too." Shiro watched numbly as Lotor stood up and slipped off his armor, so that his chest and arms were bare.

They were riddled with scars. All sorts of scars, and they covered most of his skin. There were huge scars, tiny scars, and all sizes in between. Some were multiple scratches, as if he had been clawed, and others were puncture wounds. He had the distinctly charred flesh of a burn wound covering a patch of his side, and very whip-like lashes stretched over his back. There were more scars than Shiro had ever seen on a person, and he couldn't help but gasp slightly when he saw them.

"It's bad, I know." Lotor sat down again. "Zarkon and Haggar, well, they aren't the greatest parents. They're very violent, and my governess wasn't any better. She had a riding crop that she used to teach with, so I was used to going to bed bleeding." His voice was low and soothing, even though he was speaking of his own horrible experience. "Now, don't be ashamed. Scars are not a weakness, remember that. Never be ashamed of them, they show that you can survive. Can you take off your shirt now? I need to clean those cuts."

Almost mechanically, Shiro found himself complying to the prince's request. Before he knew it, his own scars were revealed. Shiro was used to seeing them, but showing them to another person sent a fresh wave of panic through him, and it was only stifled by Lotor's comforting hand on his shoulder.

Shiro's stomach was something he despised. There were plenty of large slashes covering his body, mostly from battles in the arena. There were more precise cuts, from the experiments of Haggar and the druids. And there was the small patch on his stomach, off to the right, that was full of tiny slices, from a small blade. Self-inflicted wounds.

Lotor didn't seem too shaken by the sight of the Black Paladin. He just picked up the first-aid kit on the floor and started treating the fresh cuts that resided between the older marks. Soon he was done, warning Shiro to be careful because he had two fractured ribs, and he was cleaning up the medical supplies.

Shiro expected that they'd join the rest of the paladins once he was done, but they didn't. Instead, they just sat in Shiro's room, silent but not awkward. After what felt like an eternity, Lotor spoke.

"Shiro," he started. "Your scars are nothing to be scared of. You are stronger than they are. I know it's hard, you've been through too much. But we'll work towards it, okay? You don't have to be all right, it's okay to be broken. We're going to fix it though. Together."

The room fell into silence again, and Shiro was able to think a bit. He was still shaken from showing Lotor his scars, but he calmed a bit at the words. Together. He didn't think he could get better alone, no matter how much he wanted to, but together sounded better. Sounded nice. Yes, he could do that. His past would not control him, not anymore. He would heal, eventually, and until then, he was not alone.

Shiro didn't feel good, but he felt a little bit better than he had yesterday. And that was enough.

 **That's it! The end of Shiro Ship week. This was a pretty dark chapter, but it had some fluff too, and I hope it didn't have too many errors. I hope you enjoyed this week of writing, and I can assure you that I already have ideas for more Voltron stories, so hopefully I can get some up soon. This is your last chance to review, so I'd really appreciate if you could tell me what you liked or give me some constructive criticism! Thank you so much for reading!**

 **~April**


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